Yesterday, on our drive to Florence, Oregon for our annual Holt Family Campout, we stopped in Eugene for lunch, meeting up with some of our other kids who were driving down in other vehicles. We had a great lunch and then everyone piled back into the cars for the final leg over the Cascades to Florence. We weren’t even out of Eugene when my cell phone rang. It was my son, a passenger in the suburban driven by my teenage daughter, saying that they needed gas. “Yes,” I replied, “I knew you’d have to stop for gas.”
“No,” my son said, “We can’t move. We’re at a stop light and the car won’t run.” Great! We exited the highway, headed back to where we thought they were and then went through the fun of pushing the suburban out of the line of traffic, waiting while hubby and Teenage Daughter (who was learning ever so many life lessons) went in search of a gas station that also sold gas cans. They came back with a one-gallon gas can and, after many attempts, finally got the lid to work. We poured the gas into the tank, tried starting the car, but one-gallon of gas will not start a suburban so back to the gas station…
While waiting with the other teenagers who were passengers in the suburban, I asked how Teenage Driver managed to let the burb go completely empty. After all, the vehicle beeps and flashes a warning message – Fuel Level Low. How did she not see this? The backseat teenagers said, “We don’t know! We heard it a long time ago. – before we stopped for lunch.” Yet, they didn’t say anything to their sister when she kept driving.
Luckily we weren’t in a hurry and we were all able to make jokes and laugh about the experience, but it was still a stressor on top of an already busy, stressful day. As I got back into the car with hubby, I said, “Tell me again why we have kids.”
“Do you really want to go there?” he replied.
I thought for a few minutes about what my life would be like without our seven no-longer-little darlings. We’d have a lot more money, that’s for sure. We’d have a lot of free time – heck, I’d even have time to write. I could write all day for days at a time. I might even be a world famous author by now. And then it hit me – I’d have the time to write, but what would I write about? Where would I find the adventures? What would our stories look like? I’m sure we would be living fine lives without our seven no-longer-little darlings, but I like this adventure and I like these stories – even when I don’t have enough time to write them.